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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26813443">someone will remember us</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Analinea/pseuds/Analinea'>Analinea</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Be still, my whumper's heart [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Charlie's Angels (2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Day 4, Elena emotional whump, F/F, Jane Whump, OT3, Pacific Rim AU, Sabina whump, Some angst, Whump, Whumptober 2020, again the comfort and happy ending are implied, also mentionned edgar bosley, because I had to write one at some point, boz, charlie - Freeform, collapsed building</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:15:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,275</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26813443</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Analinea/pseuds/Analinea</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane knows what it’s like to fuck up and lose someone in the process. Even if the world wasn’t caught in some apocalyptic bullshit, she thinks she would have made the same mistakes –in any universe, she would’ve been the same person and made the same choices.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Elena Houghlin/Jane Kano/Sabina Wilson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Be still, my whumper's heart [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947337</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>someone will remember us</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I love Pacific Rim, I've read a shit ton of AUs once upon a time, it was only a matter of time before I wrote one I suppose!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>someone will remember us</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I say</span>
</p><p>
  <span>even in another time</span>
</p><p>
  <span>147 - Sappho</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane knows what it’s like to fuck up and lose someone in the process. Even if the world wasn’t caught in some apocalyptic bullshit, she thinks she would have made the same mistakes –in any universe, she would’ve been the same person and made the same choices. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wholly believes that. That no one can be fundamentally different.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a firefly of a techy who would tell her exactly how wrong she is; Elena just loves talking about any kind of science, especially the made up ones. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But they aren’t in a universe where otherworldly beasts never appeared, where humanity never adapted disturbingly fast to a life where you can lose loved ones in a snap of the fingers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s amazing, almost, how death can be under the spill of kaiju blue as much as it can be under the weight of a jaeger trying to save a city, and still pilots are treated as heroes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jane can’t stomach it. Not anymore. She can’t stomach the greater good, the necessary sacrifices, the collateral damage, the mathematics of losing civilians in percentages, and most of all the hole in her soul shaped like another person– shaped like herself too, in a twisted way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There are days, having been in someone else’s head and having seen everything their eyes have seen. Her heart having beaten to another’s rhythm-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There are days when Jane wonders who really died.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hates it. That through the grief she still finds the space to be terrified of what it means. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elena tells her that’s not how the drift works; no one who hasn’t experienced it can </span>
  <em>
    <span>understand</span>
  </em>
  <span> Jane wants to scream back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Some nights, before Edgar disappeared in the swipe of a Kaiju’s claw, Jane awoke still tied to sleep by the tendrils of someone else’s dream, and for whole minutes didn’t remember how she was called.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Edgar’s nightmares were the result of a trauma that made Jane’s blood fill with acid as if it had been hers, and if Edgar slipped up sometimes and genuinely thought he’d been the one to grow up in the countryside, what else could it mean?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They could’ve said </span>
  <em>
    <span>we</span>
  </em>
  <span> or they could have said </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the sum of two people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So who died? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jane, trying to learn how to live again just like she’s learning to use her wounded right arm again like a toddler with no fine motor skills, wants it to stop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She won’t ever do this again, even if people stop looking at her with pity and ask her to. She’s done.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’ll give everything else of herself to the cause, because she’s still a fighter and still believes in saving humanity. But she won’t give this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Charlie will understand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It starts with a kiss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elena apologizes immediately, but Jane chuckles and takes her hand. Jane goes to sleep crying most days, when she sleeps at all, feels the loss as intensely as when it happened, a year earlier; but somehow she’s still alive and her heart is full of promises. It’s just who she is, too strong for her own good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She says to Elena, “Listen, I like you too but right now it wouldn’t be fair to either of us, yeah? I’m not asking you to wait for me, but if you’re still interested when I’m- </span>
  <em>
    <span>healed</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she says instead of fixed, because she knows Elena would say Jane’s not broken, “then we’ll see. What d’you say?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elena gives her a feather kiss on the forehead, only tall enough when Jane’s sitting down -which doesn’t happen a lot- and says, “Science </span>
  <em>
    <span>can</span>
  </em>
  <span> be patient.” Jane laughs and doesn’t retort that she’s never been the kind to leave a single minute empty herself; but she’ll try, for Elena, she’ll try. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sabina arrives at LA with a shit eating grin and haunted eyes, hair a mess, a jacket emblazoned with Anchorage’s shatterdome logo tied around her waist. Everything from her dyed strands to her careless gait grates against Jane’s tidy sense of the world. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once upon a time her mind had been free and reckless too, but she’s all grown up now, she knows safety comes in protocol and plans. That’s what she drills into new recruits –the few that still come. The program has been slowly dying and Jane doesn’t know what she’ll do when nothing human stands against the inhuman, when her home will be abandoned, repurposed, sold for parts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When her Soaring Hekate will no longer be where she can see it, filling the emptiness inside of her with warmth as much as with grief’s biting shards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sabina isn’t a newbie by training standards but she’s green at actual Jaeger combat– she’s just never found someone drift compatible. Jane can’t help thinking Sabina had to be the problem. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elena, when they find time to spend together on not-dates, laughs and says Jane should give the new girl a chance because she’s actually quite nice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jane can’t help the needle sharp worry that Elena will like Sabina better. She takes it as a challenge to befriend Sabina as quickly as possible, because then she won’t be left alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s the second start of everything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The day Jane offers to train with Sabina, she has already lost. When they complete each other so well in a fight that Elena is left speechless, she has lost. When someone insults Sabina because of a past she’d barely started to open up about, and Jane punches the guy, she’s lost. Then the coastal wall falls and Boz looks Jane straight in the eyes and says, “Charlie would understand if you refused,” with the kind of desperation that hopes for acquiescence, Jane–</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jane loses with a smile and Sabina’s name on her tongue when she doesn’t find it on the list of candidates for compatibility tests. “I want her,” she says despite the protests and the cries of “history of drug abuse” and “messing up the neural handshake”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boz smiles when Jane retorts that they did let Sabina come this far, what’s a little more? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sabina though, Sabina looks back at her like it’s a betrayal and a gift; they say nothing. Elena laughs, and promises to follow everything from LOCCENT. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She catches Jane before they strap in. “This is you,” she whispers, one hand on Jane’s heart. In Elena’s eyes, she reads everything as if they’d drifted before and became one mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trying to pilot again won’t fill the void gnawing at her, nothing ever will. It won’t cure the nightmares or the shake of her hands when machinery makes just the wrong noise. It won’t give Jane the answers she’s been seeking in her dreams, of who she is exactly after half of her became a ghost without any way of knowing </span>
  <em>
    <span>which half</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she’ll be herself again, fully, whoever that is. She’ll be alive in the only way pilots can ever be. Maybe it’s the worst decision of her life; maybe it’s the only way to stop covering up the scars on her arm for fear of the pity they elicit in other eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jane, though, doesn’t miss the longing in Elena’s, the missing out, the wish to </span>
  <em>
    <span>understand</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But there’s no jealousy; a long time ago, Elena said she couldn’t love someone who’s so completely mapped out there’s nothing new to discover, nothing new to explore. No surprise. The quiet love that needs no effort or words is for her family, she said. Not for lovers or science. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jane doesn’t see things this way, not only. But she’d loved that about Elena. Still does. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She says, “I know,” and bends down, drops a feather kiss on Elena’s lips because this is a day for daring. She turns away and walks into Hekate for the first time in a year and a half. It’s coming home after a long trip: painful and soothing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sabina looks at her from the corner of her eyes before they put on their helmets. “Ready, granny?” she jokes, following her words with a nervous chuckle. Jane has a wild instant of wishing there weren’t visors between them so she could feather kiss Sabina’s anxiety away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shakes herself and retorts something she can’t even hear herself say. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is the hardest, most easy thing she’s ever done in her life. Her heart beats too loud for her to say that to Sabina. And, well...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She straps in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Initiating neural handshake in three, two--” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sabina will know soon enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She falls.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite the rocky beginning, the chasing of the rabbit, everything is...beautiful. Exhilarating, powerful. Jane finds a new place to belong in, a new mind to fit next to; she takes and takes and takes, a starving thing offered to quell the hunger at last. She takes Sabina’s memories and openness, her unhesitating love. She takes her pain too, her mind numbing anxiety and carelessness with herself, the fantom feel of a ring around her fourth finger just before the blood on her hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jane doesn’t know what she gives back, but Sabina smiles as she watches Elena trace the circuit scars on Jane’s skin when she finally feels strong enough –</span>
  <em>
    <span>Sabina strong</span>
  </em>
  <span>– to let her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it’s messed up. Jane has lost the ability to measure the normalcy of living since the first time she became one hemisphere of a bigger-than-her fate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she’s happy. Elena keeps saying how happy she is. Sabina doesn’t need anything else than the drift for Jane to know. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first fight –Pyrehunter– is a blur followed by cheers and screams of their jaeger name. Sabina cries afterwards in Elena and Jane’s arms, relief and pride. Their second –Moltenfist– is nothing but banter exchanged through the coms with Elena, who’s not even supposed to be talking with them during a fight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Third –Cresthook– comes with losing people and half a city when the category four gets too close to shore and sends Hekate crashing on the port. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That night, Elena comes to Jane and Sabina’s shared room to whisper loving words to them. That night, Janes wonders if Edgar saw this coming. “You’re so unimaginative,” he had chuckled when Jane had told him her ideas for naming their Jaeger. “Okay, what do you say we keep the soaring idea,” he had continued, his deep voice growing thoughtful, “and call her Hekate?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why Hekate?” Jane had asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just like the idea,” he had shrugged, but she had read about her, shining attendant of Aphrodite, three faced goddess of the crossroad. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Today she’s not half, she’s not even one, or two. She’s three. The Jaeger may only need two minds, but in her heart, she nestles in with both Sabina, and Elena.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t change what happened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it helps.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then comes their fourth fight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elena’s voice is static-y, half cut-off, unrecognizable with panic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jane doesn’t hear it through the high pitched whine drilling through her skull from her abused eardrums. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She breathes, again and again and again, heaving gulps of an air charged with sparkling electricity, chokingly thick. Something screams at her, out of reach. It might be pain.It might be an evident fact she can’t remember at the moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She blinks until she can see again, takes in the hellish light flashing in and out like old-timey night clubs. All there is are sparks, ripped wires, pieces of metal sticking out dangerously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She can’t understand why she can only see her feet until her inside world tilts– a bubble in a spirit-level. She’s hanging horizontally. Trying to raise her aching head only feels as if someone is tearing her spine out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gives up, breathes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the corner of her eyes, her left arm is dangling to a rhythm so dizzying it threatens to cause a reappearance of the meager lunch currently sitting in her stomach. Her hand– she closes her eyes. Her hand shouldn’t be facing that way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jane grunts with the effort to raise her other arm; she hears herself from the inside, voice trapped. But she can’t reach her opposite shoulder, or the lock that will let her be free.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe, she considers carefully, it’s better like this. The wall-turned-floor is pretty far, the console in front of her wouldn’t break her fall as much as break her bones.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She breathes. Something...something is screaming at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raw edges in her mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jane jumps in her harness, making her battle armor rattle like the limbs of a puppet, giving new life to injuries that had been mercifully asleep until now. “Sab–” she barely gets out, coughing to asphyxiation, tries again, “Sabina!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she turns her head as much as she can, glass shards slide on the inside of her helmet and fall away; her visor is broken. That knowledge lets the world rush inside of her armor to drown her; noises and smells mingling to confuse her mind even more. A heated engine scent brings her back to Elena’s workshop, the memory of her laugh and her voice a link pulling her out of the tornado until she can </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> hear her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ja–e? Ar– S– r–ond? Anyo–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Elena,” Jane sobs out, still trying to turn to see because the neural link is </span>
  <em>
    <span>gone</span>
  </em>
  <span> and she only has ghosts, she doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span>...she has no idea if Sabina...she can’t even think about it. Thinking about it is a void ready to swallow her up again except it has even more depth than before, it’s infinite. It’s a place where not even Elena can live because Jane wouldn’t be cut in half, she would only be left a fourth of herself, not even human anymore just filled to the brink with the people she lost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please,” she whimpers, numb to the pain now that the overpowering fear has taken her. She struggles against the harness, against her stiff neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a huge metal beam that has never been part of the delicate mechanics of her Jaeger, sticking through the front screen. She tries to make sense of what it is just before her eyes reach the unmoving silhouette of a golden armored drivesuit stained by obscene red. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stops breathing; remembers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claws, teeth, metal bending out, Sabina ripped away from the drift in a burst of agonizing electricity as they lost an arm, the sound of screaming and the whine of a living machine falling on its knees, defeated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then, the sky crashing on them with the mass of a million neutron stars, snuffing out the fire of the sun in its wake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s how it felt, anyway, even though it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>only</span>
  </em>
  <span> a building that fell on them. One Hekate could’ve swiped away as easily as tall grass had she been upright, not missing an arm. Jane notes the desk chair resting just there, toppled and broken, incongruous. And Sabina, hanging above, still. Jane sobs again. She can’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jane?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Elena!” she shouts. “Lena, please! Help!” Behind the primal panic that makes her lose every restraint, she hates that she’s torn open for everyone to see that inside, she’s just a fucked up mess of pain and terror. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Sabina. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jane!” Elena’s voice is clearer every time she speaks, “Talk to me! What’s happening?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sabina,” Jane sobs, “Sabina’s…” she can’t finish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jane,” soothing, “I have vitals. She’s alive! But Jane, she’s hurt, and I know–” Elena’s voice breaking for a moment “–I know it’s hard,” she continues, “but I need you to go stabilise her because we won’t be able to get to you for a while.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Jane– Jane stops abruptly. She sniffs, clears her throat; Elena must be dying with worry and she’s so, so far away. Jane can’t fail her. She looks at Sabina again– she can’t fail any of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” she says wetly, nods, “okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She reaches up, scrambles for the stuck release with clumsy fingers. With a burst of strength and a yell, she rips it– the mechanism tying the spinal clamp to the rig opens with a pathetic puff that Jane is too busy falling to hear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She crashes into the console, collides with the ground, knows nothing but agony. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jane?” Elena cries into the coms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jane opens her mouth once, twice, a dying fish. On the third try, her lungs unlock and she coughs so hard she tastes blood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, say something!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m here,” she wheezes out. “I’m here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank god,” she hears Elena whisper as she blinks up at the messed up console that probably just broke one of her ribs. She turns her head; she still can’t see Sabina’s face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Jane mutters, takes as deep a breath as she can, and rolls to her side with a groan. She’s not sure if not feeling her injured arm is a good or a bad thing, but there’s enough of everything else hurting that she’s counting her blessings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay conscious,” she repeats to herself silently all the way up to her knees, to one knee, to her feet. She catches herself on the console with her good arm when the world refuses to stay stable; she doesn’t know if she should start hating or thanking the damn thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, I’m up, I’m gonna try–” she coughs again, fine dust irritating her throat further, “I’m gonna try to get to Sab.” One step at a time. Metal groaning, lights flashing. Her breath catches on the edge of the wrong memory. “Stop,” she whispers, “it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two steps. Blood. Edgar leaving behind only traces of red. “Stop,” she says again, then louder, “Talk to me, Lena.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elena doesn’t question it –three steps, rubble giving way under her weighted boot– starts telling her about the latest research on Kaiju blue. Jane doesn’t listen to the words but focuses on the sound; rain falling on the roof behind a closed window, white noise. Something that isn’t the night she lost Edgar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Four steps, and she’s a twist and hop from being right under Sabina; her visor is shattered too but all Jane can see is strands of hair dyed red instead of blond. Her heart fills her whole chest with panic– “Breathe, please, Jane.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” she says, gasping like a child after a cry. She can’t lose control, not now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See the release? The manual one on the– on the right. That’s the one you have to pull, not hers, the one on the right. But you have to brace to catch her, okay?” Elena stammers, “I know...I know it’s going to hurt, I’m sorry, Jane, I’m– you have to catch her as best as you can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jane knows it’ll be painful but she’s more worried about, “I’m going to make it worse for her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elena is silent for a second, and Jane knows her enough to know she’s pulling herself together before she can answer. “I know, you will, but she’s– Jane, she’s losing too much blood,” Jane can see that, she can only see that, the massive hole in the side of the drivesuit, filling up her eyes, nose, ears, “you need to stop the bleeding and see if there’s anything else. You’ll do more good than bad. I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stop apologizing</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Jane wants to say, but instead she closes her eyes, breathes, puts her feet apart to stabilize herself. She has only one arm. She uses it to pull the release; presents her injured shoulder to catch Sabina. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It goes so fast– or maybe she loses time: she doesn’t see Sabina fall but she hears herself screaming. Once she’s done, she can’t pull new air in because there’s a dead weight on her– </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thinks, </span>
  <em>
    <span>not dead, not dead</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Elena,” she chokes out because she can’t quite hear it but she’s pretty sure Elena must be screaming into the coms. “I caught her,” she chuckles, stops when it threatens to make her pass out. “Okay,” she whispers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She bends a leg, foot on the ground, grits her teeth– she pushes to roll them both. Held up by one shaky arm, head hanging down, Jane is transfixed by the drops falling out from her broken helmet; she can’t say if they’re tears or sweat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turns to Sabina. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Half her face is covered in blood so it’s hard to tell where it comes from. Until it bubbles out from the corner of her mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jane twists to the side; this time her lunch doesn’t stay put. Her ribs protest that fact very, very loudly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“–it probably looks worse than it is,” she catches the tail end of Elena’s rambling. She doesn’t say that it looks pretty bad already, first because there’s not enough air for that, second because Elena probably </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do I do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elena stops, a shaky breath coming clear through the coms. “Okay, what do you see? The medical team is right next to me I’ll let them guide you thr–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” Jane shouts. Closes her eyes in shame. “No, I– Okay. Okay, it’s–” she bites her lips, ready to break down though she can’t afford that. “Please, you. I need you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A pause. “Alright, I’m here. Tell me what you see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jane inhales, smoke and blood and dust, opens her eyes again. She tells them; about the bleeding arm, the twisted leg, the torn up battle armor right under Sabina’s chest. The hole is as big as her hand, though thankfully when Elena explains how to remove the front plate she finds that the wound isn’t as important under it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But there’s still too much blood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Elena says, repeating what the medics just told her, “It’s not too bad for now. It’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but she has a chance. There’s a medkit with an autopatch under the rig.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jane looks around, spots the yellow cross and the printed “pull”. She can’t get up again. So she pushes herself along the ground with her feet, until she can twist and reach and blink away the dark spots at the pain it causes; she grabs the handle and yanks on it, but it comes so easily that she overbalances and crashes on her side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She can’t do this. “Jane?” She can do this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, I’m here, I’m okay,” she repeats until her vision stops tunneling. She crawls back. Sabina’s eyes are still closed. Maybe it’s wrong, but Jane looks at the flowing blood and thinks, </span>
  <em>
    <span>As long as she’s bleeding, she’s alive</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Open the kit,” Elena says, and Jane doesn’t tell her that it’s hard with one hand, lying on her side, she just does it. “The autopatch–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Jane says, she’s used one before. The grey, curved box, with a screen and two lights –one green, one red. She’s used it on herself once. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Metal groaning. Edgar being ripped away. Jane’s hand starts shaking so hard she drops the patch; the clattering of it jolts her back in the moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grabs it again with numb fingers. Puts it on Sabina’s injury; it comes alive, whirrs softly and puffs when it injects whatever’s needed, seals the wound, blinks green. The stats written on it mean nothing to Jane.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elena asks for them. She doesn’t hear the question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, she lets go.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t dream. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She comes to when there’s the sound of an explosion, the ground shaking. The Jaeger whines around them but holds, even though pieces of it fall all around Jane. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jane?” Usually Sabina is never awake this earl–</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jane turns her head so fast she sees two golden helmets. She blinks. Sabina looks back at her, tears running over the bridge of her nose, turning red. “Jane?” she asks again, voice of a lost child.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jane smiles. “You’re here,” she says without a noise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She can’t hold on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t dream.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“ETA thirteen minutes,” Elena’s stressed out voice cuts through the darkness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is she gonna be okay that long?” Sabina sounds strained, afraid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She is, she is, you’re both gonna be okay,” Elena answers, on the edge of asking to promise instead of affirming it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lena?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s in–” her breath catches, Jane wishes she could open her eyes, hold her hand. “What’s in the autopatch injections?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Jane can picture Elena biting her lip, closing her eyes as she tilts her head to the side, shaking it once, straightening up while taking a breath, “nothing like that. Nothing– nothing bad, alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Promise?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The darkness closes in again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She dreams.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s two roads, and a woman standing right at the crossing of the paths. She’s facing her. She’s facing to the left, and to the right, too. She’s shining. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Child,” she smiles. Reaches a hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jane takes it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She wakes up. Something scrapes and rumbles, and shakes; then sunlight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A single golden ray slashing through the blinking blues and reds of a dying Jaeger. Growing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Inviting new shadows in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jane turns; could recognize the shape of Elena from centuries away. She slides down a pile of broken bits of cement and metal, scrambles to kneel beside Jane. Takes her helmet between her hands, eyes blown wide. She looks up to say something to someone else, and Jane looks to the other side; here’s the other third of her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sitting up but hunched over, bloody, golden; Sabina looks back at Jane and smiles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She takes Jane’s good hand in her good hand –Elena takes both of theirs in hers, folds over them, and sobs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sabina raises a shaking wounded arm, strokes the back of Elena’s head gently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jane closes her eyes again with a smile and keeps breathing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In any universe, this is exactly who she is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’d do it again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s just getting started.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The autopatch is entirely made up I don't know if that a thing in Pacific Rim ¯\_(ツ)_/¯</p><p>Please comment and leave some kudos I love you &lt;3<br/>I'm on <a href="https://kinsbournescream.tumblr.com/tagged/ana-writes-sometimes">the blue blogging site</a> you're invited for tea</p></blockquote></div></div>
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